The Songbirds Archives

Bobby Darin - Sammy Davis, Jr.
Jack Jones - Mark Murphy

Bobby Darin
Reviewed by David Torresen; Washington, DC

"A great voice, he ain't got," wrote an anonymous critic about Bobby Darin in the November, 1960 issue of Cosmopolitan magazine. "An actor he don't seem to be. A matinee idol he certainly ain't. A happy kid he's not, either, they tell me. But you put all the aint's and not's together, and you got the hottest talent to walk across a stage in over twenty years."

Fans of this multi-talented no-talent will surely rejoice over the new Collectors' Choice release, Bobby Darin: The Unreleased Capitol Sides (CCM-079-2, 1999, US). This vastly enjoyable collection pulls together 25 tracks recorded for Capitol between June, 1962 and March, 1965, with a generous emphasis on standards by the likes of Gershwin, Rodgers, Loesser, Loewe, Coleman, Mancini, Bricusse, etc. None were released in Darin's lifetime (1936-73), and only a few have surfaced since then.

Frank Sinatra will forever be recalled in 20th century iconography as the brilliantly gifted guy with the fedora. Darin, meanwhile, was a man of many hats. His musical tastes - arguably the most iconoclastic of any major interpreter of American popular song in any of its various subgenres, male or female, black or white - ranged from Negro spirituals and Stephen Foster; to Sigmund Romberg and Kurt Weill; to virtually every Great American Songbook composer; to his many, teen-oriented, self-penned tunes (Splish Splash, for starters); to Ray Charles, to Bob Dylan, to Mick Jagger, and on and on.

Darin's Capitol tenure, contrasting his earlier (and greatest) years at Atco and his later stint at Atlantic, was his most consistent in terms of material - fairly middle-of-the-road; eclectic, but not radically so; on par with most Capitol artists' efforts circa 1962-65. As such, the Collectors' Choice anthology offers a hodgepodge of arrangements, some encumbered by a mind-numbing choir, so common at the time; and yields a smorgasbord of material, ranging from great GAS compositions like I Got Rhythm, Standing on the Corner and On the Street Where You Live, to occasional MOR dreck like Red Roses for a Blue Lady. Highlights include a full-throttled, daringly Darin take on Alabamy Bound; a delectably laid-back I Ain't Got Nobody (with a female chorus, effective in this instance); and an alternate take of the Darin-penned Gyp the Cat, intended as a sequel of sorts to his 1959 smash-hit Mack the Knife.

Less satisfying, but noteworthy nonetheless, given the several-year lull in Darin reissues, is Varese Vintage's just-out compilation Swingin' the Standards (VSD-6004, 1999, US). This disc pulls together 18 tracks from three of Darin's 1966-1967 Atlantic albums - Bobby Darin Sings the Shadow of Your Smile, In a Broadway Bag, and Bobby Darin Sings Dr. Doolittle - plus some singles. The "standards" swung here include a few classics by Gershwin and Arlen, as well as many mid-1960s Broadway and Hollywood hits by Styne, Herman, Mandel and Bricusse. Darin diehards have no use for this disc, however, since late last year the British label Diabolo reissued all five of his Atlantic albums on three CDs (the above-mentioned, plus his more folk-rock efforts, If I Were a Carpenter and Inside Out), generously supplanted by several non-LP Atlantic singles. To those not hell-bent on acquiring every note the great man recorded, the Varese release is a thoughtfully prepared sampler, one high-point being Darin's slyly-paced reading of Loesser's I Believe in You.

Sammy Davis Jr.
Reviewed by Bill Reed; Los Angeles

Sammy Davis Jr. is no joke. Before hooking up with the wrong recording advisers he was well on his way to becoming a terrific jazz singer. Here, then, are two first-rate Sammy's from his Decca period, I Gotta Right to Swing (1957), the jazzier of the two due to the presence of the great arranger, Sy Oliver, and It's All Over But the Swingin' (1960), released on one CD by MCA in England (MCALD-19384, 1998).

On the first, "Mr. Entertainment' is backed by the Basie band, minus the Count, but with the curious addition of avant-garde player Eric Dolphy in place of Frank Wess on four tracks, There is No Greater Love; This Little Girl of Mine; Gee, Baby, Ain't I Good to You; and Mess Around. Several of the cuts are extended length, featuring solos by Basie-ites such as Frank Foster, Ernie Royal and Joe Newman. The other arrangers on Gotta Right are Jack Pleis and Morty Stevens who, unlike Oliver, didn't write the cleanest and most unfettered arrangements in the world. But, hey, it's the Basie band!

At his best, Davis split the difference between legit Broadway-style belting and jazz singing; not too heavy, not too light, but just butch enough. This nearly schtick-free collection is a sensibly priced British import from MCA, and is one of the few Davis discs that isn't weighted down with a lot of junk. Maybe a track or three are dubious inclusions, such as an attempt to Xerox Ray Charles on a couple of numbers, and Face to Face, a ringer which seems inserted as a favor to friends. Both are examples of the kind of "bad behavior" that increasingly dogged Davis's recording ventures.

Otherwise, neither Candy Man nor Mr. Bojangles are anywhere in sight as Mr. Junior wails his way through 23 (mostly) GAS-sers, with a few rarities such as Rodgers and Hart's Where's That Rainbow and Berlin's Better Luck Next Time. Perhaps the nicest surprise, this time around, Rodgers and Hart's "Lady" is not a "broad," "chick," or "dame," but a "Tramp," just the way they intended her to be. Other tracks include Spring Is Here, It Never Entered My Mind, and Don't Blame Me.

Jack Jones
Reviewed by Ted Naron; Chicago

Paradoxically, Jack Jones is a singer who is most hip when he is singing straightest, and most square when he's trying to be hip. Happily, this two-fer from MCA in England (MCLD-19364, 1998), combining two of his mid-1960s Kapp albums, Wives and Lovers and Dear Heart, finds him in the former mode.

Jones is blessed not only with a prodigious vocal talent but a keen intelligence which, when put at the service of quality material, results in his getting full musical and lyrical value out of everything he sings. His phrasing, his time, his breath control, and the sheer sound of his voice are joys to hear. His is a sound that is light yet fully masculine, and smooth as honey. Later albums would find him straining for relevance with fly-by-night material, and "improvising" ersatz bluesy or jazzy variations that were desultory and arbitrary. But here, backed by superior arrangements by Pete King, Glenn Osser, Marty Paich, Ralph Carmichael, Don Costa, Jack Elliott and Harry Betts, he brings extraordinary sensitivity to a batch of superior songs.

And there are some rare finds here. His When She Makes Music is the only version of this lovely song I know of other than Peggy Lee's. Her rendition is incomparable, but Jones's can stand next to hers without embarrassment. I know of no other recorded vocal version of the theme from Toys in the Attic, the interesting title song from the film of the Lillian Hellman drama. There is a Sammy Cahn-Jimmy Van Heusen song, Summertime Promises, which I have never come across elsewhere. And it's nice to hear the Jule Styne-Sammy Cahn You're My Girl, a Sinatra tune from the late-1940s seldom performed by the mid-1960s.

Other than these, the disc contains a variety of Great American Songbook stuff combined with decent contemporary material, like Jones' hit version of Bacharach's Wives and Lovers. Those familiar with Sinatra's version of Emily (arranged by Nelson Riddle) will find Don Costa's setting for Jones remarkably similar! I'm fairly sure the Sinatra-Riddle recording came first (but no matter).

Twenty-four quality songs sung smartly and subtly. It's a long way from Jones's Theme from The Love Boat, and chances are you won't mind.

Mark Murphy
Reviewed by Ivan Santiago; New York City

The New York-based label 32 Jazz continues to mine the Mark Murphy catalog with the 32 songs on Songbook (32105, US, 1999), its third dual-disc release of material recorded by the singer between 1972 and 1991 for the now-defunct Muse Records. Since only about a third of Murphy's 19 Muse albums have seen CD reissue so far, the label's ongoing anthology remains a most welcome enterprise. All three compilations offer an eclectic repertoire, but on this third offering the emphasis has shifted from jazz compositions and technique (bop, vocalese) to the Brazilian and pop songbooks.

Songbook features an illustrious and variegated roster of songwriters, from Jerome Kern, Ira Gershwin and Sammy Cahn; through Milton Nascimento, Antonio Carlos Jobim and Ivan Lins; to John Lennon, James Taylor and Michael Franks. Included are not only familiar but also seldom-heard choices, such as The Bad and the Beautiful (from the multi-Oscar-winning movie of the same name, and penned by David Raskin, who also gave us Laura); Miss You, Mr. Mercer (a tribute to songwriter Johnny), and a Body and Soul with the rarely used verse of Billie Holiday's version - also with a rare chorus lyric.

Connoisseurs of classic pop may take exception to the rhythmic and harmonic overhauls of the material on this collection while acknowledging that every standard sounds fresh and interesting, if not entirely pleasant to their ears. The disc's most surprising success may well be the ballad As Time Goes By, here taken at a hard-swinging yet effective tempo. Recommended in general to jazz-lovers seeking an eclectic anthology of songbook material, in particular to those wanting to hear a quintessentially improvisational artist.

Long before there was a "doyen" of jazz singing and a father figure of younger singers; before there was a three-time Downbeat poll-winner and Muse Records artist who exchanged royalties for artistic freedom; even before the cult singer who made a couple of highly acclaimed jazz and blues albums for Riverside, there was the smooth and inviting Mark Murphy who recorded for Capitol (three albums, admittedly a mixed bag) and, at the outset, Decca (two albums: Meet Mark Murphy and Let Yourself Go).

Contrary to popular opinion, the Mark Murphy of this early period was already a highly distinctive singer, as his 1956-57 debut recordings for Decca illustrate again and again on GRP's newly issued Crazy Rhythm: His Debut Recordings (GRD-670, US, 1999). Hear him display his plentiful rhythmic skills in songs with titles tailor-made to the task: I Got Rhythm, Fascinating Rhythm, Crazy Rhythm, Lullaby in Rhythm. Surrender to the swinging abandon with which he turns minor novelty tunes into major delights (Elmer's Tune, 'Taint No Sin to Dance Around in Your Bones). Fall for the charm of a pleasant bass-baritone who wails compellingly on ballads such as I Guess I'll Hang My Tears Out to Dry and A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square. Savor the tastefulness exercised throughout by the singer and the great arranger Ralph Burns, turning even clapping (on Crazy Rhythm) and whistling (on Little Jazz Bird) into flavorful yet unobtrusive gimmicks.

And don't forget to read the informative, comprehensive sleeve notes by Jazz Times contributor Doug Ramsey. Further kudos are owed to the original team of (uncredited) musicians and to the albums' original producer, Milt Gabler, who green-lighted some obscure and upbeat choices such as You Mustn't Kick It Around (from Rodgers and Hart's Pal Joey) and Robbins Nest (with lyrics by none other than Ella Fitzgerald), as well as various, seldom-heard verses. Congratulations must also be extended to reissue producer Orrin Keepnews and the team reviving these 20 songs from Murphy's total Decca output of 24 songs. So high is the quality of this product that one is almost inclined to forgive the label's mysterious omission of four songs from Murphy's debut album, despite an (unlisted) timing that closes in around 60 minutes.